


Imperfect Fit

by snarkyscorp



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: First Kiss, Gen, Gender Identity, Introspection, Other, but really more m/m since Pidge is Pidge, m/f I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 10:20:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7432489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkyscorp/pseuds/snarkyscorp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That was his life, really: a different size and an imperfect fit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Imperfect Fit

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't watched until episode 7 or so, this may be spoilery. Not really, but just in case.

Watching Shiro from a distance, it was easy for Pidge to disassociate. Shiro was just a guy. A guy who happened to be stunning and funny and kind and smart and practically chiseled by Greek gods, but a guy nonetheless.

It just… It made Pidge wonder: what would it be like to look like Shiro?

And not just the muscles and the height, though those were things Pidge coveted too. More, it was the essence of masculinity about Shiro. Looking at him, it would be impossible to mistake him for a girl. Shiro was a man, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, and even his robotic, Galra-implanted tech was curved into an effortless match for his body. Even the Galra-tech, in other words, was manly.

Pidge couldn’t help but look down at his shoes. Well, technically not even his shoes – they’d been his brother’s. Hand-me-downs were pretty common where Pidge came from, though their parents had always done their best to give Pidge things that weren’t too boyish. Even if, as a child, Katie had secretly but desperately wanted Matt’s belt buckle and his baseball cap, it hadn’t been in the cards until Pidge became Pidge and snuck out of the house with a bag full of Matt’s things.

Including his shoes. Two sizes too big and stuffed with a thick pair of socks at the toes to keep from sliding around, Pidge _loved_ those shoes. They felt so him, even in a different size and an imperfect fit.

That was his life, really: a different size and an imperfect fit.

If he could look like Shiro, just a little bit, Pidge felt like he’d somehow gel better with whatever inward vision he had of himself. Because for as long as he could remember, being Katie hadn’t been what he wanted. He’d never been a typical girl, and though maybe dresses had felt nice when the breeze came and lifted his skirts a little, Katie wasn’t him. _Pidge_ was him. Or he was Pidge. Or they were each one another, but somehow piloting the Green Lion had taught him something deeper about what it meant to be himself.

It was why he’d been trying to master pull-ups for the past two months (in secret, because let’s face it, if he couldn’t do a push-up, he was an embarrassment to _man_ kind), why he’d tried pitching his voice when he was alone, why binding his chest down was still the most important thing he had to do every morning before he could even think about leaving his room. If that meant he was late to a Voltron drill, then so be it. Because without the pull-ups and the voice pitching and especially the binding, Pidge didn’t know what or who he was.

It wasn’t like his A-cups would even give him away without the binding, but the reminder of them when he wanted to get into uniform as they rubbed against the unforgiving material was an ugly shove in his gut that said _You still have to deal with those and they don’t_.

Shiro, Lance, Hunk, and Keith – they were _men_. And Pidge? He was still playing catch up to find what it meant to be a _boy_ , and he hadn’t even mastered that yet. Sometimes he worried he was so far behind that he’d never catch up, that he’d always feel like something was missing, that he was putting on some kind of show instead of just existing.

That was the thing: Shiro and the others? They didn’t have to get up every morning and think _How do I make myself look how I feel_? They woke up, threw on whatever (or in Lance’s case, the bare minimum) and went about their days without a second thought.

Pidge’s entire life was a second thought.

“Hey, you okay back here?”

Pidge looked up. The sun cast a long, deep shadow behind Shiro, creating a sort of ethereal glow around the outline of him. Pidge sort of desperately wanted to run his fingers along it like tracing the conductive, copper tracks in a circuit board. Maybe, if Pidge touched the lines just right, they’d spark or shine. Like the Green Lion did the first time it felt Pidge’s presence.

“Yeah, sorry,” Pidge said, forcing himself to his feet. He gave his right shoe one tap, then two to settle the socks against his toes, and then did the same for his left. “I was just, you know, thinking.”

Shiro smiled a smile so bright it was bigger than the glow around him from the sun. Pidge felt the all too familiar drum of his heart go racing. It also was impossible not to smile back when Shiro did that, like Pidge was just a small echo of his expressions.

“I get that,” Shiro said. He gestured at the sand dune and when Pidge shrugged, Shiro sat down and Pidge plopped down beside him.

They were waiting for Rolo, for Hunk to bring back the necessary tech and help him get his ship working again, but for the past half hour, all Pidge had been doing was sitting there, staring at Shiro. Sometimes, he let himself look at Lance and the easy, eager way he flirted with Nyma and tried to take mental notes. Even though he knew Lance was terrible at flirting, Pidge still thought he could learn a thing or two about that natural, breezy confidence he exuded. If Pidge could even just have a fraction of that when he talked to Shiro, he wondered if their relationship could or would progress.

“I’m glad you decided to stay on the team.” Shiro patted Pidge’s back. It was a light touch, but it still knocked Pidge’s glasses a notch down his nose. “It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Pidge smirked a sideways kind of smirk, pushing his glasses up as he shrugged. “I’m not sitting here plotting my secret departure or something,” he said.

“Whew,” Shiro mock-sweated. “What a relief!” He nudged Pidge with his shoulder, which – again – knocked his glasses down.

Pidge once again pushed them up and gave Shiro a look: _no more of that_ , it said. _I really, really like you a lot and I don’t know what that means I am_ , it also said. If he was really honest, it also said, _I want to kiss you on the mouth and Other Places but I’m afraid you’ll hate me if I try_.

“Really, I’m not,” Pidge reiterated. “I said I’d stay, and I meant it. I love Voltron.” He paused, watching Lance lead Nyma away. Did anyone else see that??

“Me, too. I feel like I hadn’t been complete until I found my Lion.”

All worry over Lance forgotten, Pidge whipped his head, eyes wide. “That’s exactly how _I_ feel!”

Shiro smiled again. Pidge’s stomach did a horrible series of somersaults and flipflops and a bizarre lurch thing he’d never actually felt it do before. It was like his stomach was clenching and freefalling and nauseous and full of desire all at once. The feeling was impossible to hold in. He knew his cheeks were getting hot just from trying.

“I think – I mean, I _hope_ – we all feel that way. Sometimes, I do wonder about Hunk…”

Pidge laughed. “Don’t. He’s been sweating about getting to Shay and defeating the forces of Zarkon’s army around her this whole time. I think he’s pretty invested.” Pidge looked for Hunk, but he was still off searching for helpful tech apparently. “Besides, I can feel his mind when we’re all together and in sync, and I feel how much he cares about this. About us.”

“It’s crazy how we can feel those things, huh?”

“It is.”

For a while, it was quiet. Shiro’s thigh every once in a while bumped into Pidge’s elbow, which was only possible because Pidge had hauled his knees up against his chest. Like he was some kind of protective ball for his feelings.

“So,” Shiro said, breaking the silence. “Do you feel my mind too? When we’re Voltron?”

Pidge nodded. “Yeah. Yours and Hunk’s and Lance’s and Keith’s. It’s pretty cool, because—"

“You know I can feel yours too, right?”

“Of course.” Pidge shrugged. “That’s just how it goes. What did Hunk - or was it Coran? - say? We can all look inside each other’s head holes and—"

Pidge stopped. A dead stop as a series of chills raked down his spine. He hadn’t really thought about it before, but the quiet moments were always the times when they could most easily read one another’s thoughts and feelings, where they could delve into each other’s minds if they allowed each other in. Pidge had the sudden and awful feeling that while he’d been staring, Shiro had been staring _back_ and their souls had sort of intertwined or whatever and that meant that maybe Shiro had…

“Do you really want to kiss me on the mouth?” Shiro asked. There was no joking in his tone, nothing to suggest this was just a prank. He looked at Pidge and reached out, touching his chin.

His super small, girly chin that didn’t at all reflect how Pidge felt about himself! His delicate, no-hair-to-be-found-unless-he-counted-peach-fuzz (which he did not) chin! The chin of someone small and scared and fragile and feminine. His thoughts raced out of control as Shiro leaned in.

“And other places,” he murmured stupidly, eyes falling shut as their lips met.

A minute later, the Blue Lion was seen careening through the atmosphere and out into space. Lance and Nyma, Pidge realized, a little belatedly because his lips were still tingling and his ears felt like they were on fire and even though he had himself bound, he was all too terribly aware of his breasts and the pertness of his nipples.

Abruptly, he stood up. “That’s---that’s Lance,” he croaked, horrified at the sound of his voice. “I think he just snuck Nyma off in his Lion!”

Shiro laughed quietly. “I know I should be mad, but that’s just… It’s very _Lance_ , isn’t it?” He sighed, expression falling. “We should go help Hunk. The sooner we get their ship back up, the sooner we can get Lance back down here and go.”

“Right,” Pidge said. He started to walk away when Shiro caught his wrist.

“Hey,” Shiro said, drawing him close. “There’s nothing wrong with you, and you don’t have to define yourself, and whatever you are or aren’t is okay and nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Pidge’s insides screamed on display for Shiro, and he yanked his hand away. Shiro looked hurt, but Pidge was too panicked to apologize. “I know that,” he said, stiffly. “I _know_ that.”

As he walked away, he shut his mind off from Shiro’s. The next time he was able to, he touched his lips and savored the feel of the warmth still clinging there. He didn’t know if Shiro meant that kiss as anything at all, or if it had just been an impulse maybe now he wanted to take back. Pidge vowed he wouldn’t ask. He’d just keep it for himself for a while, secret, like everything else, and deal with the consequences later.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow yeah so HELLO VOLTRON FANDOM I AM IN YOU. I wanted to write a little something about Pidge as I see him. I know not everyone will agree with this interpretation and that's fine! I also know people may kill me for wanting to corrupt Shiro/Pidge into some kind of relationship but yeeeeah, I love it, so sue me.
> 
> Thanks for reading my ramblings. :P


End file.
